Sine Nomine
by malanthropy
Summary: Icchan goes out looking for the next big Deus. Ogata's POV. T cuz of ONE adult theme.


A/N: The idea for this just kinda came to me. First Angelic Layer fic, from which I've learned that Icchan is hard. The title's Latin (pronounced see-nay nom-ee-nay), bet you can guess what it means. Most of this is Ogata's POV in third person (which makes no sense, but oh well). Takes place BEFORE they find Misaki.

Disclaimer: Kidou Tenshi Angelic Layer is **mine**. That's right. That's why I'm writing fanfiction for it.

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"**Sine Nomine"**

He was out, walking. Although for him, walking was a series of dashes from one hiding spot to the next, with Ogata trudging along behind; Ogata always felt the motives of running and hiding were a bit useless, especially where Icchan was concerned.

In reality, though, Icchan was stalking his way to the front entrance to the Piffle Princess for an ego-boost. For a girl who'd just gotten her Angel Egg, a girl who was starting her own adventure. A new Deus; a new lover to his creation, his art, his life.

Sometimes, he wouldn't even be doing it for the panty shots. Today was one of those days.

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A girl walked out, looking critically at what she had bought, although smiling nevertheless. A broadly labeled egg was the womb to a fighter, at this point merely a featureless doll. The girl hugged the egg to her stomach, as the Piffle Princess bags that lined either arm were like deadweights, even with the limited mass they carried. _Some cloth,_ Ogata guessed, _the activation laptop, maybe hair._ She had ¥300 clamped between her teeth; _bus fare_, he mused. 

He was sitting in the grass with his back up against a tree, with a pad of paper and a pencil in his hand, pretending to be drawing. Icchan was hiding in the shadow of the very same tree; Ogata was playing reconnaissance today. He had the urge to save this girl from the spontaneous, anatomy-defying man that was his boss, but after the Hot-Soup-Gun-to-the-Groin punishment last time, he decided against it.

He began scribbling manically on his drawing pad, and shifted it behind him to look like he was merely putting it down to stare at everything better. He wished he could do something that carefree, just sit by a tree and look at the sky. But Icchan's eyes were hunting. Hunting and scrutinizing every last detail that had been thrown down on the paper.

He heard shuffling behind him; the boss was standing. Obviously, this girl suited the moment. "Come, Ogata!" he shouted at the voice of a whisper. "We're following her."

Icchan's subordinate groaned. He stood up, and Icchan fitted himself so that he could not be seen from in front of Ogata. As the latter pulled out money for the bus fare, the former slinked up the back of the bus, spread-eagling and flattening himself against the outside of the top so he could not be seen. Ogata sighed, always a bit wary of his boss's alternative methods.

He made sure to sit in a seat a few behind her, so he could see her a bit better. She had black hair that shined beautifully even in the dim light of the sunset. She was looking through the little booklet the activation laptop came with, that existed for the sole purpose of raising the excitement for the actual opening of the Egg when that time came. From the few profile views he got of her face, he saw she had hazel eyes. Her face was smooth, and her cheekbones high but not overrated. Her complexion was that of one who is out in the sun occasionally; overall, pleasing to look at. These small moments on the bus, watching a Deus that had not found their Angel yet—this look from the past at a future—these were the few moments that made his otherwise insane job worth it.

Icchan poked his head into the window. "Soooo, how is she?" he asked, in a low and over-slurred voice.

"She seems interesti- I mean, interested. She keeps reading the manual," Ogata replied. Taking a look at the driver, he whispered back again. "He'll see you! Get back up!"

The bus came to a stop, and the girl got up. Eyes trained on her, Ogata stood up, too. He left behind her, and stepped off. Not three paces away, he felt a ¥10 coin hit his head. He rubbed the spot; it had been pegged. Behind him, he heard the bus driver shout; "TELL YOUR FRIEND TO STOP RIDING ON THE TOP OF MY BUS!"

The bus sped off, and Icchan fell off the roof, skidding on the dirt road.

Ogata could've sworn he heard a stifled giggle emit from the girl walking in front of them.

Icchan pulled himself off, shaking like a dog to get all the dirt of his white lab coat. Then, silently, he began the hunt again. Behind trees and benches and cars and houses, until the girl walked into her house. Ogata followed along behind him, now following the dash-and-hide sequence in the exact order of his boss. They climbed a tree, and hid between pine needles and stared into the bathroom window.

The girl walked in. She put the egg down on the bathroom counter, and set up the laptop on the toilet cover. Icchan was watching her through binoculars, and gave a running commentary.

"Speed type… most choose speed type," he mumbled. They both watched as the doll's anatomy switched, allowing for more powerful legs that ran farther, harder, and faster, as the rest became more aerodynamic. Icchan smiled at his ingenuity; if evolution ever separated humans into two types in the way the Angels had, this would be the model for the faster of the two.

The girl stared at her Angel for a moment, taking in every joint and plate with eyes that wished to learn. She then turned to the laptop. It asked her what she wanted to name her Angel. And then, for the next five minutes, all she did was stare at the screen, deep in thought.

Icchan frowned more and more, every minute. "She has failed already," he whispered. "Come, Ogata, we're leaving."

"_What? _Why?" He asked, confused and almost dumbfounded.

"The Angel is merely an extrapolation of its Deus. Without a name, both the Angel and the Deus can never make anything of themselves. If the Angel has no name, it has no personality. Any look it ever takes on will be a façade for its lack of character. And if the Angel is an extrapolation… it is merely a dead arm of the Deus. If she has not named it by now, it will not matter what she calls it later; it will only be a doll to her," he hissed under his breath. "Her adventure ends here. We're leaving," he said again.

Icchan slid out of the tree, ego still unfed and now heavy-hearted. Ogata followed.

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